Remedy
by WaterUnderTheBridge
Summary: Dramione :) The war is over. But not in their heads. When the heroes are called back to Hogwarts for an eighth year, what happens when Draco and Hermione interact with one another without the prejudices of war? Rated T, rating could change later.
1. Before You Start

\- I do not own Harry Potter or Adele 25; this is solely for my entertainment and I am not making any money out of this fanfiction -

-xxx-

 _When the pain cuts you deep,_  
 _When the night keeps you from sleeping,_  
 _Just look and you will see_  
 _That I will be your remedy..._

 _When the world seems so cruel_  
 _And your heart makes you feel like a fool_  
 _I promise you will see_  
 _That I will be_  
 _I will be_

 _Your remedy..._


	2. Alone

This is my first ever fanfic *cringes* and I sure as hell haven't read many so I'M SORRY IN ADVANCE in case I do something wrong. Which is also why I rated this M. Just in case.

Also I'll try to speed up my updates, but nobody's really reading this :(

Review! Ask me questions; that's what the chapter is supposed to do!

Disclaimer: the only thing I own is the plot, and God knows if someone's used the plot as well XD.

 **Chapter 1**

"Butterbeer or nah?"

"Mmm.."

" 'Mione, the magazine's upside down."

Hermione looked up at the boy - no, man - holding a pint glass of the frothy drink and their eyes met.

" I know, Harry. I'm checking the answers to the quiz."

The Chosen One slouched on the sofa, idly scratching his thigh through a small hole in his tracksuit bottoms.

"Have you decided what lessons you're planning to take?"

"Potions and Herbology." Hermione's answer was curt.

Glad to maintain conversation, Harry continued. "I thought you would want to do Arithmancy as well -"

"She can't though, can she? She's teaching it." Draco dropped his cloak on the floor as he entered the Eighth Year's Common Room.

The blanket of silence fell slowly.

It was the first thing Draco had said in a week. And the strange thing was, he had no idea why he said it.

After all, he did feel out of place; in the conversation, in the common room, in Hogwarts; in his life. He was butting into their little chit-chat, he was the only Slytherin in the Eighth Year, the entire school avoided him like the plague, his father was dead, his mother far away, and his Dark Mark _wouldn't fucking disappear_.

He had spent his days in the Hogwarts library but they were in vain; no book had mentioned magic such as the one tattooed onto his hand. He needed to ask someone, talk to someone who understood; but who? Potty - er, Harry and the Weasel were simply out of the question, Parvati Patil didn't seem to notice him, Dean spent half his time snogging Parvati, Longbottom seemed to live in the herbolo - wait, he wasn't going to talk with any of them anyway. Why would he want to?

Because - because he was a stupid miserable git who everyone felt sympathy for - because - he _helped_ kill Voldemort?

 _The Dark Lord eyed Harry with masked surprise as he raised his wand._

 _Potter was unarmed, Draco reunited with his wand that lay on the ground - on the enemy's side._

 _Narcissa Malfoy trembled with fear; why, Draco did not know. But he knew what he was going to do._

 _"Potter!" he yelled as he dashed across the path **between** the Boy who Lived and He Who Must Not Be Named, expecting to be killed any moment. He hurled the wand at the boy just as light erupted from the wand of a man on the other side. Lucius._

 _Draco chose the Hogwarts side, and this was going to be his painful punishment. He braced himself for the impact._

 _"Protego!" A voice yelled._

Shaking himself out of the flashback, he at least gave himself credit for not being thrown in Azkaban. He had been cleared of all charges but branded a coward, for people thought it was an act of redemption, to save his neck.

He didn't think they would have said that if Harry hadn't won.

And his Dark Mark _still_ wouldn't disappear.


	3. Arithmancy

Disclaimer: I own nothing. I am a poor tomato.

-xxx-

Hermione was relieved she was back in Hogwarts, but not so happy she was with Harry - and _Ron_.

Although she refused to admit it, she felt smothered by their constant presence, as if she had to be protected. A year had gone by, with the rebuilding of Hogwarts finished by the desperate Shacklebolt, who used funds from Death Eater accounts while the people - no, animals - in question were thereby guaranteed a comfortable life in the new extension of Azkaban.

The Golden Trio had returned to Hogwarts as a sort of bait for Wizarding World, as many parents had begun to home-school their children after fears about Hogwarts.

Harry and Ron didn't need to return; their careers as Aurors were bright, but they decided to come back for 'courses' they didn't need; however, Harry had offered to teach some DADA classes on the side, to the Headmistress' great approval.

But Hermione? She needed to be attached to somewhere; Hogwarts had always been her anchor. After a year of drifting, from gala to matinée, from special appearances to charity balls, she needed a break. And she got one.

She decided to teach something as well, aside from her potions and herbology courses. Something pure and logical; something that didn't remind her of the war. She always lost herself in the world of Arithmancy. And that was what she was going to do.

And somehow, on the way, she was going to fix things with Ron.


End file.
